Kissing is a universal language
by Hanaryme
Summary: Arthur, left broken and miserable after the American revolution had kept himself shut up in his home alone, however, this is soon changed when he had a visit from Francis, who was determined to cheer him up... FrUk one-shot. No good with summaries, don't judge!


**I've actually finished a couple of USUK fictions now, and I'm rather proud of them. They may not be the best but I really enjoyed writing them. Before I start anything big, I thought a one shot of another shipping would help to break things up a little, so I chose to do a FrUk one-shot while I write the first chapter of a new fiction, so I hope you enjoy this.**

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><p>A pale, fragile, shell of what once was a great Empire. He once ruled the seas, conquered and thrived in his pirate days. Though the man would never address himself as such, claiming to be something far superior to unhygienic barbaric man simply ravaging coastal towns and villages for the mere sake of it, or at least he considered it to be. He was merciful, powerful and had a large influence on the world around him. Arthur Kirkland <em>used to be so great. <em>He thought that perhaps he could wait until the boy was of proper age and mature enough to be... He could not think of such things. The boy betrayed him, left him with a broken heart, body and soul. The blond stared at his desk with a cold and blank expression, he couldn't even portray his misery, his hatred for life. He contemplated trying to end it...Though he knew as long as he was stuck with the curse of immortality, suicide was simply not an option; he knew he could give up his rights as the country of England, become mortal and then do it, but Arthur, even in such a state of despair, was no fool; he knew better than to leave his country to slowly crash and burn. He sipped his wine, it was a gift from the frog from a while ago and had aged beautifully; Arthur has not drunk tea since then. Kirkland felt nothing but shock and betrayal for France's sudden alliance with the boy...Against him. Yet...He could not hate Francis, despite the quarrels and the conflicts the two have faced in the previous years. Arthur heard the door, he was to find out the timing of his thoughts were most coincidental. The Brit attempted to fix his appearance, he wasn't going to drag others into his pool of depression. He grasped the handle of the oak door, and inhaled before slowly and reluctantly opening the door. He really wished he didn't.

"Arthur..." Francis looked at him with much concern and sorrow. Arthur hated it, though did not comment. In fact, the only reaction he gave was his attempt to shut the door, which would've been successful if not for the Frenchman's foot interfering. "Arthur, just let me in. We must talk..." he sighed, he knew the Englishman would act this way and simply opened the door further to let himself in regardless. He looked around his home...It looked almost as broken as the poor man himself. He wished it did not end in such a way.

"What do you want from me? To see my torment as you tease and mock me?" Arthur asked, not hiding any bitterness in his tone as he stated his thoughts.

"Of course not, mon cher Ami...I came to check on you, nothing more." Francis gave him a small smile. Arthur sat down on his velvet chair, Francis sitting on the one adjacent to it.

"As you can quite clearly see, I am alive, I am well. You may go now." Arthur rushed, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration.

"Ah, but you are not well." Francis replied, crossing his legs in a rather feminine fashion. "I can tell, I have known you for long, have I not?"

"Do you not trust my word, frog?!" Arthur spat out, expressing more anger than he would have wanted to by much. He could not simply tell him how he feels about this whole matter, not now, not ever.

"Non, I do not..." Francis answered honestly and without any attitude. "Arthur, please..." the Brit was not used to the Frenchman resorting to petty begging and manners, this putting him of guard.

"I...I'm honestly fine...I just, need time..." He spoke truth, but not at all enough to satisfy or convince Francis. Completely surprised, the Brit was pulled into a large hug by whom he considered to be one of his "enemies" (He would never admit how he cared for Francis).

"I'm so sorry, mon Lapin..." Francis muttered, calling him by a nickname he had not heard since they were both young. Arthur embraced him in return, his feelings overwhelming his stubbornness. Arthur sniffed a little, and the Frenchman chuckled, rather pleased to know Arthur was finally coming out of his shell he had hidden in since the war's conclusion. Tears were slowly soaking the fine, rich garments Francis had worn, he always tries to look his best after all. The two broke their silent and caring hug to stare at each other, Francis' visage showing an all-new expression unknown to Arthur.

"Arthur, I will make you happy once more." He swore, his hand slowly trailing up Arthur's arm and all the way to his cheek.

"I know you will, f-frog..." Arthur sniffed again, showing Francis a small smile which he returned, despite the empty insult Arthur threw at him. Using his hand, the sky-blue eyed male pulled the other's face closer until their lips had met in a truly passionate manner, and they had exchanged countless words to portray their affection for one another.

"Arthur, why don't we share that wine together, non?" Francis smiled, though still being as cautious as he was when he had entered the Brit's home. Arthur nodded, his cheeks still tinted pink from the sudden confessions the two had shared...

"You know, Arthur...I was jealous of the attention he had gotten from you." Francis, who had opened several more bottles of various alcohols confessed. "I wanted you all to myself, mon Cher."

"W-What?..." Arthur who was significantly more intoxicated than the other, questioned, blushing. He was gone past the point of caring about the boy at the moment, he could always continue to mope around another day, for now, his attention was all focused on Francis.

"Oui, I felt like you had forgotten me..." Francis continued "I'm just so glad now" he smiled, looking fondly at England, before stealing yet another kiss from the man. Arthur blushed again.

"Ah well...Um..." He was not sure what to say, but Francis did nothing but raise a finger to Arthur's lips, hushing him. Arthur moved closer, being the one to make the move, kissing Francis, though making sure he was not to complain or refuse in anyway, he kissed back with equal force, slowly lying Arthur on his back while he straddled him. England let out a small gasp, his arms clinging to France's neck, and he made sure to take advantage of this gasp to slowly slide his tongue into the other's mouth, exploring his cavern thoroughly, Arthur allowed him, and after a while, Francis' lips travelled down Arthur's neck, leaving several marks. The Brit moaned eagerly, telling Francis to go on, however...

"Arthur...I cannot do this." Francis admitted, Arthur looked at him desperately.

"Francis please...I-I need you..." He was near tears. Francis shook his head.

"Non, get some rest Arthur, I'll be there when you wake. It doesn't feel right to take advantage of you like that. Such acts should be from love, not lust..." Francis explained, getting up and off of Arthur and fetching something to cover the nation. Francis knew he wanted to but he knows all the best things are worth waiting for...


End file.
